The Adventures of NIC and Friends
by Draculena LittleWing
Summary: Continuing the daft adventures of the vamps, elves, assotted pirates and comrades. Not to be taken seriously!
1. Chapter One

Cast you mind, gentle reader, to a Night Isle Coven when had a most excellent adventure through therapy and Middle earth. Although their journey may be now over, the legacy remains, as does the cast of assorted vampires, pirates, elves, humans, etc. Following a somewhat riotous award ceremony for their services to fanfiction, the NIC and Friends settle into the rather more mundane world of high intrigue, blackmail, dingy deals, black magic and care of rabbits. Some of the documents charting the lives and loves of this extraordinarily normal group of the undead have recently come to light (through the services of an undercover reporter) and here we present a 'Behind The Scenes' look at one of the most active covens around today. A sort of 'The Faces Behind The Fangs', if you will. So join us now as we pour shamelessly over the intimate documents of these celebrity creatures of the night, their friends and business partners.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
Source: NIC Guesthouse, Room 3, Evening, December 9th  
  
[Intercepted message left on mobile answer phone]  
  
Jack, Spike here.  
  
Got your note, mate, an' all's going fine. It's all pre'y much sorted this end- make sure the idiots don't drop the lot in the water and ruin the goods at your end.  
  
Sorry you couldn't make the feast, but babysittin' the elf-boy is a noble cause- you have my sympathies. Jus'- keep him away from the alcohol. If he gets ear-droop, or just plain hung-over and starts taking random pot-shots at anyone who so much as blinks too loudly again, Lord Excuse-Me-While-I-Wear-A-Dress Elrond will get pissy, and frankly, I don't fancy being caught up in * that* again. I just can't take tha' bloody tiara seriously, an' then he gets all upset and does the bug-eyed thing. The Big Bad I might be, but weird eye movements are not my bag, y'know what I mean? It's bad enough when Dracula's eyeballs start doing the whole etch-a-sketch thing. Anyway, shame you weren't there- although, mind you, there was a regrettable lack of anything stronger than bubbly.  
  
Funny, though: those photos that the Mogwai sent through got bagged by the adolescent vamp before I could get a good look, although I get th' feeling that that nancy Lestat will soon find out what they are. . .   
  
Oh, and Varney won "Best Magical Appiration" award. Yours truly nearly got "Sexiest Vampire" but got beaten by that bloody Radu. I wouldn't mind, but he looks the spitting image of the elf-boy. It got a bit personal after that- shame you weren't there, you'd have loved the punch up.  
  
Sorry to gaff on. I hate these machines, an' I'm getting flashbacks to the good ole' days of William the Bloody. Jus' thank god it's not pathetic poetry, though.  
  
Anyway, Carmilla's got a distant relative over, and she's rather tasty, know wha' I mean? So I think I'll got have a little 'chat'- man's gotta do what he's gotta do and all that, when he sees someone so very, so, very. . . I need a quick cold shower, then I'm off.  
  
Remember about the goods!  
  
See ya, mate.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Messers Courtney and Snipe  
  
Solicitors.  
  
Mr Varnery,  
  
This is to remind you that your court hearing re: production of rabbits with undue care and attention to public health and pet maintenance ordinance part 5, subsection 12, paragraph f, is to be held on 13th December 2003 in public courthouse number 2. At your representative's request, the hearing will take place at 5.30pm, after dark, to facilitate ease of your severe skin allergic condition, vis a vis direct sunlight.  
  
With best wishes,  
  
Mr Simon Courtney,  
  
Solicitor. 


	2. Chapter Two

To: MarshmallowCherub17@NIC.net From: EmeraldFlame1766@NIC.net Subject: Pictures  
  
Armand,  
Please return those pictures you claim to have to me so I can burn them. Or you can burn them.  
  
Yours, Louis  
  
To: EmeraldFlame1766@NIC.net From: MarshmallowCherub17@NIC.net Subject: Re. Pictures  
  
Louis,  
Never.  
  
Yours, Armand  
  
Marius de Romanus to Lord Ruthven  
  
My Dear Ruthven,  
  
Went rummaging in Amadeo's quarters last night and came across some interesting photographs. Although Carmilla may seem quiet, she most certainly differs in the presence of Monsieur Pointe du Lac, and vice versa. Anyway, I am having copies of these pictures made for record keeping purposes and was wondering if you would like a set to add to your records. Please respond to this note when you get it.  
  
~Marius  
  
Lord Ruthven to Marius de Romanus  
  
Marius,  
  
How kinky are we talking here?  
  
~R.  
  
Marius de Romanus to Lord Ruthven  
  
R-  
  
Very.  
  
~M.R.  
  
Lord Ruthven to Marius de Romanus  
  
M-  
  
When can I pick them up?  
  
~R.  
  
Marius de Romanus to Lord Ruthven  
  
R-  
  
Tuesday.  
  
~M  
  
December 12, 2003 Journal Entry Radu  
  
I keep seeing them at night. They're there. They're staring at me. The white rabbits keep leering at me from atop my dresser. They sit on my award for "Sexiest Vampire." They're in my coffin. I will lie down on what I think is my coffin pillow, but is truly a rabbit. Could be due to the large amounts of cough syrup I have been drinking to end this hideous case of the vampire flu. The others tell me that I shouldn't be drinking cough syrup. I like the taste of it. It makes me fall asleep faster. It's so strong. It makes my dreams so pretty normally. But now I've been seeing the rabbits. God I need more cough syrup.  
  
December 12, 2003 Journal Entry Varney  
  
The rabbits got out of their cages again. Had to collect them from Radu's quarters. He hasn't said anything. He must not know. Will not tell him in fear of having to get rid of rabbits. Courts already onto me about that.have hearing tomorrow. 


	3. Chapter Three

[Written in scented (Myrrh flavour) pink notebook.]  
  
Late evening, 13th December   
  
Dear Diary-  
  
Today has been a busy one for all the wrong reasons. I am still so behind on my Christmas shopping, and small pockets of chaos have been erupting all over. This is in fact kind of normal around here, but it's been happening even more. I had to rescue Spike from cousin Katrina, and since then he's looked a bit scary-eyed, and keeps on muttering under his breath about the 'Hellmouth' and the 'First.' I think he took his last job a little too much to heart, or possibly he bit off more than he could chew with Katrina. I had to calm him down when Radu's Porsche snow sled backfired- Spike is really on edge at the moment. I think he's missing his buddy, Jack. It's kind of sweet, really. I tried cheering him up by saying that his grandsire Angel said he might try to drop by soon. If anything, Spike got even paler and excused himself very quickly. What *is * it with the male vampires and their sires and grandsires? Issues all over. Female vampires have a considerable less complicated relationship with ours.  
  
Oh, yes, Radu's new toy. It looked really shiny and posh- everyone was admiring it. Then it backfired and blew soot on the onlookers- lots of pitch-black figures with little white eyeholes. I could have died laughing, if I wasn't already undead. Dracula was less than impressed, and the car became something of a laughing stock- especially since after that, it refused to work. Radu is now most upset, poor dear.  
  
Today I accompanied Varney to his court hearing. Apparently someone noticed the rabbits and reported him. I swear I'll get the snitch if it's the last thing I do; the only cruelty to a dumb animal I've seen is Varney trying to cope with the appearance. He did make an effort- bathed and wore a new suit. This being Varney, he was soon messy and the suit all torn within minutes. I swear he only has to sit still and it happens- it's an effect he has. Louis also came as support. We arrived at the courthouse, and managed to keep Varney calm as we waited to go in. Louis was muttering something about "damn human laws"- surprising considering he's always been a lover of humanity. Maybe it's beaurocracy- it's enough to drive anyone out of their coffin in despair. Anyway, we sat and waited, and Varney was very good- managed to restrain himself to just two rabbits. I quickly put them in my handbag and explained to Varney he must try not to make any, as it wouldn't look good to be surrounded by them when we entered. He screwed up his little face with the effort, but it must have been a real 'trial' (he, he) for him, as a minor flunky walking down the corridor suddenly found a large white rabbit in his arms, appearing as if from his right armpit. I let that one go, thinking it best the man thought he was going mad rather than draw attention to Varney. Then I saw a small refreshments stall, and bought Varney an 'I Spy at The Courtrooms' playbook. He was quite happy to work his way through that, and was even disappointed not to finish before we had to go in. Louis, meanwhile was very quiet. More than once he looked like he was trying to begin to talk to me, but then shook his head and gave up.  
  
Well, we went in, and the room was very bright and the judge was very stern looking. Varney panicked and produced a rabbit. The judge looked a little surprised at this and ordered it brought forward. As the hearing went on, it became clear that the city's main concern was that large numbers of rabbits on the loose could begin an epidemic on an Australian scale. Varney's solicitor (a nice young man called Tom Bombadil with an ever so jolly laugh, but a worrying taste in yellow gaiters) pointed out that the NIC uses up all the rabbits, and only a half dozen have escaped in the last year. Varney looked a little put out by the term 'used', and Louis looked shifty. I know full well that Varney's rabbits are an excellent source of food for Louis, who is still occasionally squeamish over human blood and prone to depressions where he only wants 'rabbit food'- a bit like a vampire diet (ha, ha). Varney, however, had been told they all went to a 'good place.' I leaned forward and whispered this into Tom's ear, and he nodded and added smoothly ". . . of course, each rabbit finds happiness in the good place of final rest." Varney looked satisfied. I was impressed- Tom certainly had the patter down pat. The judge harrumphed, and produced a city health officer, who read a load of citations and rules. Tom then answered each and every one, but in such an entertaining way, the courtroom felt ages brighter and lighter, and everyone had a warm, fuzzy sense of well being by the ends of his tale. This Tom was certainly a master of the art of tale telling. We were almost there! But then the judge had to go and agree, on a condition- that Varney sign up to certain documentation agreeing to stringent rabbit-breeding conditions, and expect a visit from the inspector for animal welfare in the near future, date to be set by the court. Well, that did it, Varney became so agitated, and he produced four rabbits out of the judge's robes, three from his ears and one under his wig. Still more spilled from the witness' box, and from the briefcases of everyone present that had one. There was much shouting, screaming and agitation. All looked lost, Louis was trying to round them all up, Varney was sitting stock still, eyes glazed, lip trembling making "bla, bla" noises, as he does when faced with official protocols of any kind, and the court was in uproar. The judge, a hefty fellow, looked about ready to faint as the rabbits popped out of his ears, and all would surely have been lost for good if Tom Bombadil hadn't begun to sing very softly. I don't know what he sang, but suddenly everyone was very calm- even Louis, who smiled for the first time in ages. He does look so cute when he does smile.  
  
Anyway, Tom's song, it sort of rounded up all the Rabbits, and he produced a green sack from his coat pocket and they all jumped in and seemed to sort of- well, disappear. Then he folded up the sack and replaced it, patted Varney on the head, and finished his song. The court, as if in a dream, settled back into its places, and carried on with the ruling as if nothing had happened. Louis and I- apparently as vampires immune to whatever trick Tom had used- sat down quickly, and tried to look unsurprised as the rest. Varney got off with a small fine, and there was no mention of any inspections or documents to sign. In fact, the judge seemed convinced that Tom's 'evidence' had shown the NIC to be responsible rabbit breeders, well within the law.   
  
We left as soon as we could, and Louis and I shook hands with Tom profusely, thanking him over and over. "Your happiness is reward enough, for what is Tom, but a friend to all, and all a friend to Tom?" Uh, Ok, Tom, whatever. Louis asked about payment, and Tom waved it off, leaning in to say only, suddenly serious, his eyes as old as the heavens and glowing with a fierce light "Just give them help as needs it, when they need it- and 'ware the Darkness within!" They he tipped us a wink, clicked his heels and was gone- literally. Even Dracula cannot disparate that fast.  
  
Louis looked a bit shaken at this, but we bundled Varney into a taxi and took him home before Tom's song wore off and he panicked again. I don't know what tricks they teach lawyers these days- but they are extraordinarily effective, I must say.  
  
Later:   
  
Dear Diary-  
  
I just cannot rest. I am concerned for the boys. Each time they see me they keep on sniggering and pointing surreptitiously. All except Louis, who flushes each time he sees me. What is going on? I must get the bottom of this, or else none of them will be invited to the opening of 'Bat Boutique- Designer Gear For the Fashion-Conscious Fanged One.' Amelia, my old, dear friend, will be opening her shop soon, and after I managed to get Louis to pose with me in some of the designs- well, really! Modelling is a perfectly respectable occupation- and at least I am trying to get a job, unlike some of this decadent lot!  
  
Oh, and Selene will be visiting soon. Michael needs some time to 'run with the pack' and get his head together being manly in the mountains, so Selene is dropping by for a bit. It's bee good to have some female company- Katrina was packed off earlier today. I only hope the boys can contain themselves- they tend to go for the moody look, and that is one thing Selene has got going for her. . . moi? Bitchy? Of course not! 


	4. Chapter Four

(Scrawled in French with a flamboyant hand in a black leather-bound journal)  
  
Monday, December 22, 2003  
  
Katrina left the other day. Am slightly pouty as never got to see Katrina in private. Only slightly pouty because full poutiness could cause wrinkles. Ok, let's face it, I'm downright miserable that I never got to get snuggly with Katrina. Must be losing my touch. . .have spent four hours, rather than the usual three, in the bathroom in front of the mirror trying to fix any small imperfections I might have. I feel so unloved. . .Louis off with Carmilla in dark corners the entire time. Armand supposedly knows something about it. . .will have to ask him. He'll probably want something in return, poncy pervert.  
  
Am planning on going to comfort Radu. I haven't seen anything so hysterically funny yet so tremendously sad since those pictures of Dracula in the seventies. So glad I slept through that era. . .though I would pay big money to see the Count with the afro in person. Hogh hogh indeed! Anyway, comforting Radu should take perhaps. . .three hours. Maybe less. Depends on his mood. Will wear a mixture of French colognes to entice him quicker and hurry things along.  
  
Varney won the rabbit case, so I hear. At least it'll keep Louis from his rats. . .but if I find one more white rabbit in my black clothing drawer, I will scream. Note to self: pick up that check from Ruthven tonight or else tell Varney who it was who called the rabbit control. Though I'm sure Armand will let it leak, little blackmailing cherub. I would call him short, but with the damn Count and lurking in the shadows I'm not exactly a giant. It must be hard to be Dracula and to find a coffin in which you can fit without having to curl up. Six foot seven is nothing to laugh about. He should play basketball. I'm told he and Radu (a whopping six foot seven as well) can go one on one for hours during the day. Will have to persuade them to play during the night sometime so I can verify if the legends are true. Maybe they can go two on one with the drunken pirate. Haven't seen the pirate recently. They're both suspicious. . .the pirate and Spike. I can smell the liquor coming from the bathroom in Spike's room. Ruthven claims that Spike has a suspicious brown ring in his tub that reeks of rum. Ho hum.  
  
Apparently some "Selene" girl should be coming sometime soon. . .perhaps she will be easier than Katrina.  
  
Will go to Radu now. Wish me luck.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
(Note found on desk in the room of Carmilla.)  
  
Dearest Carmilla,  
  
Could not catch you tonight (out with Louis? *wink wink*) and do not know when I myself will be back, so am leaving this note on your desk in hope that you find it. In regards to your friend Selene and her friend Michael, in which room will she be staying? And is her friend housebroken? The Count wanted to know.  
  
Also, is your friend single? Or is she steady with this Michael fellow? If wolves turn her on. . .would she be free sometime during her visit to come and howl at the moon a bit?  
  
Lovingly,  
  
Ruthven 


	5. Chapter 5

(Scribbled on a ragged bit of parchment smelling of salt and fish)  
  
Mate- shipment was sent. Can't think why it's gone missing. Arranged a disguise as planned- decided on cough syrup- nice 'n innocent. You should 'ave received a large shipment of cough syrup last week. Can't think what's happened. I'm dropping off the elf in the woods across from the castle, so will visit then. Stay calm. Jack.  
  
*********  
  
Memo.  
  
To: Count Vlad Dracul  
  
From: Mrs Primms, housekeeper.  
  
My Lord,  
  
I am writing to inform that we are running low on table napkins. Knowing your Lordship's and Mr de Lioncourt's preference for pristine table-ware, I feel I should draw to your attention the habits of Mr Varney. The lower quarters are now festooned with the creative results of Mr Varney's inability to use a napkin properly. How he manages to chew them into paper-chain figures of dancing children is a mystery, and loath as I am to bring to your attention a deficit in the behaviour of one of your kin, I also have a duty to the linen cupboards, and the image of the household to maintain, as I am sure you can appreciate.   
  
Sincerely,   
  
Mrs Primms.  
  
**********  
  
(From the pink-paper, Myrrh- scented diary)  
  
Monday, December 29th.  
  
Been having a most ghastly week. Well, not ghastly, more confusing, but one thing was ghastly. The beast! The brute! The savage! The- weak-willed slimy toad!!!!! No number of exclamation marks can possibly erase the fact that Louis Pont du Lac is a cretin, a liar and a cheat. After telling me over and over, after I made him promise that there never was, and never will be, anything between him and that slut, Lestat, I get called into a room by Lestat, to see Louis kissing him.   
  
I swear tongues were involved.  
  
Maybe one peck on the cheek would be forgivable since they are, after all, French, but that was no peek on the cheek. That was full-on lip-lock.  
  
I have not spoken to him since, and if it wasn't that he feels more comfortable when he's feeling bleak and miserable, I might get some satisfaction from the moping and drooping he's done since then.  
  
If things were complicated enough, Ruthven signed a note to me on the 19th 'lovingly', and has been the model of courteousness since then. My heart gets all fluttery when I think about how nice he's been about the Louis thing- steering me away from that lily-livered excuse for an undead, talking me for moonlit walks, and passing me amusing snippets from the Dark Press as entertaining diversions. He's a perfect gentleman, and I think he's sanest of the lot (apart from me, of course). Such a pleasant man.  
  
I don't know what to think any more, I'm sure I don't.  
  
Yesterday Selene came to visit. Turns out that she and I have a common ancestor- making us some form of distant cousin. Even more odd, she also shares an ancestor with Varney. He's been leaping about her like an enthusiastic puppy, and she has been very good with him, really, playing with his rabbits, taking him for walks and playing computer games with him. She doesn't smile much, but she seems very grateful to have found some kin. If only the Ricean vampires weren't all so much of a mess (and cads, liars and sluts), then they might be helpful to show Selene that angst for vampires is more a state of being than a state of mind. She arrived with a tall and handsome vampire called Kraven who was wearing a sort of beaten-dog look. But he left soon after to go and pout under the moon. I'm not sure the NIC showed it's best side when she arrived- Dracul hasn't stopped gibbering since Radu baited him at breakfast 4 days ago about Mina (again), Radu is still on his adolescent kick of cough syrup and elf-gambling and was doing a moody, pouty thing in a corner. Lestat was looking far too thoughtful, and had one hand on Louis' shoulder. Louis looked like he'd been made to swallow daylight. Armand and Marius are absent at the moment. Spike was standing under his framed certificate, stroking it in a manner most disturbing. Jean-Claude (down for a few days) was lounging on the nearest chaise-longe being graceful and moody-pouty. Thank goodness for Ruthven, who at least took Selene's bags and bid her welcome and leave some of the happiness she brought with her. Varney sat on a stool by the door and made 'beep' noises, then giggled, when anyone passed by.  
  
She's very into black PVC. Several eyebrows got raised at that. Hmmm. Might have to invest in some myself. She had a hulking great brunette with her, too. At the door she kissed him goodbye and he loped off with a petite black-haired male. I smelled werewolf on them both. Well, at least it saves on sheets.   
  
It's very nice to have another girl to talk to, although Lestat's roving eye has started to swivel again. I did him a service by bundling off Katrina- but I'm still so mad at him, I don't think I'll warn him about Selene. I saw her unpack. Not even Van Helsing's misguided family carries such an arsenal. She told me a girl's got to be careful these days, and has promised to give me lessons with her Colt pistol in the woods. Cute. I said we could go elf-baiting, and she smiled. She's pretty when she smiles- very pretty. Now, now, Carmilla, that sort of thing got you into trouble last time.  
  
Have decided to keep Ruthven to myself- Selene told me she's very taken, so have had to pass on regretful decline to R re: moon howling. Have suggested I wouldn't mind giving it a go…  
  
********  
  
(Written in a once-grand leather-bound tome with the word 'Dierey' imprinted in gold on the front)  
  
minaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaall work and no play makes Dracul a dull boy all work and no play makes Dracul a dull boy all work and no play makes Dracul a dull boy all work and no play makes Dracul a dull boy all work and no play makes Dracul a dull boyminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminaminamina  
  
(etc)  
  
********  
  
(Journal of Varney- daubed in sticky fingerprints)  
  
Very odd week. Breakfast started it and everyone was odd. Odder than usual, that is. Carmilla looked really mean at Louis. Louis looked almost joyously misar- misrib- sad. Maybe they are playing sado-masochistic sex games to spice up their love life, which I wouldn't know about because I haven't been hiding in Lestat's room and I didn't read his sex manual hidden under the bed.   
  
Radu came in late and all baggy-eyed and cross again. He's a poor looser, me and the elves agree. He still owes me 50 badgers from Strip Snap a month ago.  
  
He started having an argument with Dracula, and made Dracula all upset over Mina (again). She must be some girl to do that between such loving brothers.  
  
Ruthven looked like he might be able to have a chat, but when I leaned over, he stoppered my mouth with a napkin. It tasted like the rest-a bit starchy. I don't think he likes to talk at breakfast much. But he does like to talk about women's underwear. I've heard him at it alone in his room. I can't get in there to hide, so I listened at the door. "Oh, yes, yes, black lacy panties…." I looked in the keyhole, but all I could see was Ruthven doing Irish tap dancing with the panties on his head. And people say I am odd.   
  
I am not odd- I am unique. Jean Claude said so. I like Jean Claude; he gives me blood pudding sweeties to suck when he comes by.  
  
I have a new friend! Selene is lovely. She's very solemn, but she's a nice girl; just a bit unloved, I think. We played on Louis' X Box, and she's almost as good at hiding as I am. We hid when Louis came back to his room to stare into a mirror and murmur "End of it all, black, black, Claudia… Claudia…" then he picked up a rose and wandered out again. Selene asked me if it was quite right to play with Louis' X Box when he's not there, and I said of course it was- he was always too depressed to play with it much and it needs playing with regularly to keep it well exercised and healthy. She nodded and asked if Louis was alright. She actually asked if 'Mr Pont du Lac' was alright, so I was confused at first. She's so delightfully formal- what a gem! She seemed to 'feel' for him- she said she felt sorry for him and knew what despair could be like.   
  
I have never felt despair, and if it makes me dress in lace and not play with my rabbits, I don't think I want to, either.  
  
********  
  
Notice of bills due: Messers Twitchett and Tuck  
  
Invoice to: Count Dracula, NIC Castle.  
  
Payment is now due on the following items:  
  
2 pair Spanish linen underpants  
  
2 pair Chinese silk stockings  
  
1 pair cambric breeches  
  
2 pair Egyptian linen suit trousers  
  
2 suit jackets- same  
  
2 pair Chinese silk pyjamas, embroidery extra  
  
Total: £2890.56  
  
With thanks.  
  
(Note handwritten on the bottom in Ruthven's hand:) Dracul- you seen this? Little Radu has been on the spender again.  
  
********   
  
(Scrawled in French with a flamboyant hand in a black leather-bound journal)  
  
Monday, 29 December 2003  
  
Mon dieu! Life can be so complicated!  
  
First, most wonderful to relate, I manage to steal a kiss from Louis, resulting in the rather wonderful break-up of his foolish relationship with that Carmilla woman. Now he is mine again, all mine! And with Armand away, I can enjoy mon beau cher uninterrupted.  
  
Second, it turns out Louis is having too much fun being miserable, and refuses to see me, and won't let me near him. I see him walking with the red, red rose, passing it over his exquisite lips- oh, how he burns me up inside. I know he does it on purpose. I know he does. He wants me, of course he does. The little tease. I shall have to devise a more cunning seduction.  
  
Then- horrors!- it turns out that Spike is a more important player in this game than I first considered. He claims to have proofs of a foolish escapade into Radu's chamber. I cannot remember what it was that made me so mad as to dally there. I see it now; I see it written in my own hand. I think I was possessed. It is true; I'm too sexy for my ghost! Enjoyable as it was, it was foolish, and if Spike cannot be placated, he might pass what evidence he has to Louis, and all is lost. Even worse- merde! What if he passes it to Armand? I could be in mortal trouble from the brat.  
  
And to add insult to injury, Spike has received confirmation from URS, the Undead Registration Service, that he forms a new breed of 'post-modern' vampire. He has framed the damn letter and certificate, and I have to pass it every time I pass the gallery. He moves it around, too, and stands nonchalantly beside it, stroking the frame when anyone walks by. The bloody URS have reduced my kind to a mere footnote for this upstart! Calling it the "Heir to all of the Byronic grandeur and Ricean emotionality." WE ARE NOT OVER EMOTIONAL!!!!!! At least we have style! We don't need to be verified by some academic, officious ponce in a badly cut, cheap little suit in a poky cubby hole somewhere. I am thinking of writing to the Dark Press about this, at the very least. I shall have the UVS (Undead Verification Services) and VCE (Vampire Council of Elders) investigate this. Despite the attractiveness and Gothic splendour of young Selene and the brooding, masculine power of her companion, Kraven (who hasn't been seen since a brief greeting- a pity, for he would be a grand consolation prize for this broken-hearted vampire), I have to disapprove. A letter arrived for her, too (God knows how the URS knows they are here), giving her the same 'post-modern' designation as Spike. I mean! They don't even use surnames, even! Post-modern is so cliché, such a dry, undignified classification. And what a ridiculous name; 'Whedonian'. 'Ricean'- now, there's a name to inspire respect, a name that is masculine and powerful. We WON'T be mocked, we WILL have respect, we WILL overcome!! We WILL, WE WILL, WE WILL!!!!!!  
  
I am quite put out. I shall have to have a manicure and a long, warm, rose-petal bath to recuperate.   
  
********  
  
(Note in an elegant hand postmarked 'Lorien' and faintly scented)  
  
My dear Radu-  
  
It's time to pay up, sweet bonny youth. Captain Jack Sparrow has paid a call, returning a highly excited Prince Legolas. He was mentioning how a valuable shipment of his, labelled 'cough syrup' has gone missing. Now, we all know your favourite hard tipple while you are playing at cards, young Radu, and unless you want to feel the sharp end of a pirate's temper, I suggest you pay up what you owe.  
  
Be a dear. I don't want to send Haldir and the Heavies over unless I have to, and I'm sure no one wants to resort to the Prozac, do we?  
  
Just a gentle reminder, your debt now stands at 23% interest NET.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Galadriel, Lady of the Golden Woods.  
  
********  
  
(Note hastily scribbled and pushed under Varney's door)  
  
Varney, old chum- in a tight spot, can you lend me some cash?  
  
(Returned a good deal damper under Radu's door a while later)  
  
Sorry, Radu, Dracula told me not to give you any more money. He suggested that "being hung by your own toenails" for a while would be good for you. Sounds like fun. Can I watch?  
  
(Email sent.)  
  
To: EmeraldFlame1766@NIC.net  
  
From: Pinkfluffycloud@NIC.net  
  
Subject: Pictures.  
  
Monsieur Pont du Lac,  
  
Please return to me the pictures I entrusted you with regarding the joint modelling session we undertook for my close friend. Please also return the pictures from the previous modelling session as not suitable for public consumption. I paid for and claim all rights to such property, and I would appreciate a speedy reply.  
  
Please also return my fluffy bunny slippers. If you like them so much, ask your boyfriend to get you a pair. I want what's mine.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Countess Carmilla Karnestein.  
  
To: Pinkfluffycloud@NIC.net  
  
From: EmeraldFlame1766@NIC.net  
  
Subject: Re: Pictures  
  
Carmilla, at last you have contacted me! I am aflame with shame and I want only to talk to you! I am miserable without you, and it's not all good misery, either. I liked being happy with you, that is how much I love you. Please don't break up with me! Don't leave me alone! I can explain- it's all wrong, and there is nothing between me and Lestat. He thinks there is, but there isn't, I swear! He isn't my boyfriend- that was a most cruel thing to write.  
  
I will drop your slippers by your door in the hope of catching a glimpse of my lovely Carmilla-chick.   
  
I never received the pictures from the courier, I thought maybe they had been sent directly to you, but Armand looked awfully smug that evening, so he might know something. Sorry I can't help more.   
  
I shall stay by your door day and night until I can perhaps once more be allowed a stray beam of your eyes to fall upon and illuminate my wretched soul.  
  
Yours forever,  
  
Louis.  
  
To: EmeraldFlame1766@NIC.net  
  
From: Pinkfluffycloud@NIC.net  
  
Subject: (None)  
  
I am astonished and disgusted. After your last email I thought perhaps we could forgive and forget, but, no! I open my door to find Varney curled up around my slippers. When I awake him, he tells me you wandered off in a daze. I follow his finger and it is towards Lestat's room!! And I peer through the door and I see you drawing his bath!!!  
  
This is it- you slimy cad! No more!!! We are through, goodbye!  
  
Bat Express Telegram  
  
From: Marius de Romanus   
  
To: Lord Ruthven  
  
Nearly home STOP Great time in Bavaria STOP Very tasty people STOP How's things? STOP Amadeo impatient STOP So am I STOP News on pictures? STOP  
  
Bat Express Telegram  
  
From: Lord Ruthven  
  
To: Marius de Romanus  
  
Hell breaking loose STOP Dracula in nervous breakdown STOP Radu in severe debt STOP Spike wants to kill Radu STOP Carmilla split from Louis STOP Louis caught with Lestat STOP Louis claims drugged STOP New visitor cute STOP Jean-Claude too French STOP Varney well STOP Situation normal STOP 


	6. Chapter Sixw00t!

Entry in a small black book-  
  
January 9, 2004  
  
Got off to a perfectly abominable start this evening. Woke to find that the latch of my coffin was stuck and had to punch a hole in the lid in order to get out. Now must find a whole new lid. In fact, should simply go coffin shopping.  
  
Next, breakfast. Couldn't have been worse. Only drank half of the goblet of blood as the Rabbit King himself felt the need to drool in it before I was finished. He then proceeded to drool over my shoulder until I shoved a napkin into his mouth. Found out that Spike is officially a legal vampire. Don't know more details as I do not particularly care. Carmilla is now sleeping with the elf, apparently. Louis is obviously depressed by this as he is moping about in the corners more often than usual. Then, when isn't that pathetic pansy depressed? From what I gather, Lestat somehow has to do with the turbulence in that relationship. I was under the impression that Lestat was sleeping with another party, but old habits die hard. Can't teach an old vampire new tricks. Especially when that vampire is the Brat Prince.  
  
What else has been revealed at breakfast? Let's see. . .the Dracula brothers are bitter. Something about gambling with elves and cough syrup. Some remarks were flung and the Count was hit hard with one stinger about his precious Mina. Radu stormed out after that one. He's looking a bit bedraggled, probably due to his cough syrup addiction. Or perhaps it's due to the vampire flu that's been hitting the nation quite hard. Mem- must watch self. Of course, rumors have been flying, and Radu's illness could have more to do with a certain blonde floozy than the flu.  
  
Anyway, went off down to the kitchen to find something, or someone, to heighten my low spirits. Not one girl was drawn in by my advances, which is rather surprising, and I was forced to retreat to my chambers to sulk. As usual.  
  
Upon reaching chambers, was met by a most unpleasant surprise. Varney had obviously been hanging about, as there were puddles of drool and rabbit fur. I ignored this, making a note to contact the youngest and prettiest maid available to clean in front of my room for me. After opening the door, I was met with yet a more unpleasant surprise. The Rabbit King himself, wanting me to play fetch with him. I grabbed the ball from his grubby claws and threw it with all my preternatural strength out the window. He promptly morphed into some sort of rabbit bat and flew after it. Locked window as precaution in case he should find the ball and be itching for another round. Also closed drapes. Read until tea time.  
  
Tea consisted of grabbing a goblet and choosing to leave the room or sit in silence as none of the coven is speaking to anyone else. Was about to choose the former, when was stopped by the High and Mighty Count. Varney showed up, which was v. surprising, though he had several large twigs in his hair. Carmilla. . .must have broken up with the elf, as found her sitting next to me, leaning quite close. SCORE!!! Turned my chair around to face her, shutting out Drooling Rabbit Boy. Gloated by smirking over Carmilla's shoulder at the defeated Louis. Am going to win this. I like winning. Though might have to sort of secure my victory a bit over Pointe du Lac. . .  
  
*******  
  
(Journal of Varney. . .with some chocolate smudges and smears of liquid Ritalin)  
  
Was walking the halls earlier when came across a most peculiar sight. Radu was looking nervous outside Lestat's door when the door opened and Radu hurried in. Quickly forgot my quest to the attic to find the squeaky toy and slid under the door in shade form to find out more. Radu had brought quite fancy looking French bubbly bath with him to give to Lestat. He then began to kiss Lestat, who quickly lead him into the next room, where Lestat keeps his bed and coffin. I would have followed, but from what I glimpsed through the keyhole, I'm glad I didn't. Instead I waited outside until Radu came out. He seemed very rattled to see me, and turned a funny color when I asked him what was going on. He was missing his hair chopsticks and his glasses, but hurried off before I could tell him so. I decided to wait and ask Lestat what was going on, but then decided not to because he probably wouldn't say. Louis and Carmilla were like that too the couple of times I got caught at the keyhole.  
  
Went to the kitchen to find some napkins to chew, but ended up in the wrong place again. Ruthven was there adding something like green pepper to one goblet of blood. I guess he likes his with extra seasoning, though he was adding it to Louis' cup, not to his own. He hastily left, after Carmilla called him, and I took the time to switch the blood in the goblets, so Ruthven could have his with the seasoning.  
  
*******  
  
(Leather bound "Dierey" entry. . .)  
  
Little brothers! Cannot STAND mine a day longer! The gambling, the trouble, can the fool not take care of himself? Have threatened to call Mircea. How DARE he insult my darling princess Mina! What a nuisance he is, damn him! Have requested that Ruthven keep tabs on dear Rudolf Cel Frumos. Horrible, wretched Rudolf! I don't care about childhood trauma! I went through it too, and I didn't become a. . .MANWHORE! This coven is breaking apart. . .I, rightful Prince of Wallachia, shall not let this happen. . .this. . .this. . .UTTER FAILURE! The coven has become a sex house. . .I must end this. Louis and Carmilla, Carmilla and Ruthven, Ruthven and Lestat (I saw Ruthven slinking about that hallway after supper, as though in a trance) Lestat and Radu, Louis and Lestat! Probably Varney and Selene. . .though I doubt Varney's powers of seduction or ability to be seduced. NO MORE!  
  
*******  
  
(In French in a flamboyant hand in a black leather journal)  
  
Quite a night! Mon Dieu, Louis is most certainly not speaking avec moi, and I am dreadfully worried about the welfare of our relationship. Oh, the trials of being moi! Radu came by with a lovely bottle of rose scented bubble bath from Paris. He is a rather charming fellow, v. good looking and quite good natured when not drugged from his cough syrup binging. I must have him! Oh, did I write that? Tsk tsk. . .well, no one shall read this, I shall make quite sure of that. Oh, Radu, mon amour, you have me under your princely spell! I must never let him know, or I might lose his affections! Always play hard to get, that's what ma mere always said. Radu left me in quite a daze. . .almost forgot my troubles with Louis.  
  
Louis. . .still moping over Carmilla! Bad enough with Claudia, but Carmilla as well? She doesn't even love him. . .drags him around like a hopeless rag doll is more like it. Throwing me looks in the hall. . .I can pick up on her brainwaves. . .Slut? Moi? Non, cheri. YOU are the only whore in this coven. Merci.  
  
Ruthven had been prowling about my door after supper. . .went to inquire what his lordship desired and he tried to put his hands on me! "Oh, Lestat, just once, my love. . ." Ugh! Degrading. To be touched by that. . .PERV! He is by far the LAST on my list of desirables. . .if even that. He was quite persistent. I gave him his five minutes and let him toddle off, feeling a sense of accomplishment for having kissed the Great Lestat. Probably going off the see Carmilla, as they have been hanging about together. All the more proof that Carmilla is quite the whore indeed, sleeping her way around the coven, stealing my beautiful lovers from me. . must hold onto Radu and salvage Louis. . .slut indeed! Hmph. . .  
  
Is this any way to treat a marquis?  
  
******  
  
(Written in a small black book that smells of roses.)  
  
Can no longer drink. Can no longer sleep. Am drooping more than ever since the loss of my beloved. Shall kill Lestat for this one. . .I wish to burn him sometimes but will never go through with it. Though am not as restrained from killing Ruthven. The fiend. . .he's not helping the situation at all. He must be in with Lestat. . .he was prowling u there and spent a good five minutes in Lestat's room with him, after which making a run straight to Carmilla's room. Perhaps someone can help me. . .someone with stealth and a pitying soul. . .  
  
******  
  
(Slightly moist pages again)  
  
Louis came to my door today. At first I thought he wanted a rabbit, but it turns out that he wanted my help. He says that some people are being mean and want him to be sad. I said he was always sad, but he said sadder than that. He wanted to know if I'd seen anything going on between Lestat and Ruthven. I told him that Lestat was seeing Radu and playing with him like he and Carmilla used to do. He thanked me and told me to keep my eyes open.  
  
Haven't blinked in an hour. . .eyes getting crispy. . .  
  
******  
  
(Pink paper, Myrrh-scented diary)  
  
Horrible! Horrible! Fighting all over! On one side of the house all one can hear is yelling in French. . .the other side screaming in Romanian! Will take Selene and Varney to the park to get away from it all. . .Varney does love to feed the ducks. Will take Ruthven along as well. . .it's a nice moon out to maybe sneak off to howl at. . . 


	7. Chapter Seven

(From: 'Dr Spock's Care of The Vampire and Other Undead Unfortunates'.)  
  
Vampire Flu  
  
Description: a rare mutation of the common flu species, a sub-genus of the name: *toothybuggersflumiserybutletsfaceittheydeserveitunnaturalbastards*.A student of supernatural remedies and physiognomy should not be put off by the long name, once broken into its constituent root parts it become a logical step to deduce the ailment's temperament and main symptoms. Peculiarly in vampires, there being so very many sub-sets of the *vampus vampus* genus, this affliction transforms them in many more ways than the normal human corpus. Whereas there are 300 or so varieties of the common cold, ranging in effect from a snuffle to full-blown influenza, and producing a variety of reactions from the female pig-headed ignoring of the body's distress to the masculine belief that he is, in fact, dying because he feels so bad, there are at least over 1 million variations to be had or noticed among the vampire community.  
  
Symptoms: the suffering creature of the night displays, first and foremost, symptoms similar to a human- nasal distress, phlegm over-production, a chesty cough, aching joints, tiredness, etc. This comes as something of a shock, many vampires having left mortal illness behind them when they turned. However, this insidious virus can also manifest in other ways, otherwise presenting the infected vampire as otherwise perfectly normal. It can instead increase supernatural abilities beyond their usual measure, it can increase libido in those vampires who still desire/ are able to produce sexual union, it can alter the vampire's emotions into mood swings and it can highlight the faults in a vampire's character. In other words, it leaves them psychologically vulnerable, more vulnerable than at any other time.  
  
Traditionally, then, vampire flu season has been the time when most vampire hunters are out and about, plying their simple craft. However, most covens can take precautions to prevent this- but only if they admit to the disease in the first place. Many regard it with embarrassment- not only because the undead are simply not supposed to get sick, but also because as a communicable disease, it rather detracts from their gothic aloofness when whole swaths go down with it and they are forced to admit that they all in fact play bridge together on a Thursday night.  
  
Cure: Unpleasant, but possible, it requires a full mind-body purge by an un- infected vampire and an abstention from blood and supernatural power use for a week, along with plenty of coffin-rest.  
  
Contra-Indications: Cough syrup is not to be recommended, as it is addictive to weaker-willed vampires. But it is also becoming apparent that newer strains of vampires now emerging seem to have an in-built immunity to the disease, and can perform the purges successfully even if not very old or powerful. Most of these, however, are too busy laughing at the idea of the other splaying bridge to stop and help- and still more are taking advantage of the increased libidos on offer while they still can.  
  
************  
  
(Neat, black-leather-bound notebook of Jean-Claude, Master Vampire)  
  
Mon dieu! I will say this, life in and around the Night Isle Coven is strange and stranger, and that is saying something after what I have seen and done. First I arrive and Spike is getting all protective over his damn certificate of verification, Radu appears to be drinking unsafe amounts of medicine, Dracul and Ruthven are snappier than usual, and as for the rest- it's getting very hot in here, and I don't mean in terms of temperature. I can feed, using my 'ardour,' from pure lust- let's say I've been banqueting since I got here. I come to catch up with being a Frenchman abroad with Louis and Lestat, maybe play a few hands of cards, that sort of thing, and I get hit by this feverish wall of psycho-vampiric energy.  
  
Varney seems mostly unaffected- but then, it would take a fair bit to affect him, although there are copious amounts of rabbits about. And sweet young Selene also seems alright, but the rest are all showing signs of eccentricity. Ok, so more than usual. But I am more worried about the effect of Armand on Lestat. The brat is back, and seems to have caught it monumentally fast- or perhaps that's just his raging preternatural hormones. I swear, that boy makes me look abstemious. And I swear Louis is about to accept a proposal, and not from Carmilla; his eyes can't stop etch- a-sketching and he's been staring at nothing for days now. As for Carmilla- she is even now making eyes at Ruthven, wearing *pink* and giggling incessantly. Ruthven looks about as healthy as a vampire with chronic bad temper can- although he's also started to pout and kick walls, and is being stalked by a flock of owls for some unknown reason. Dracul is going to burst something if eh doesn't calm down, and Radu, as well as gambling, syruping and generally mooching has been making big eyes at anything with a pulse. Spike is giggling and carrying around his framed certificate like a lost soul- it's getting unsafe to walk the corridors at night. You don't know if you'll be pouted at, giggled over or jumped from behind.  
  
If I didn't know better, I'd swear that they've got Vampire Flu- but then that would mean bridge-playing on Thursdays, and Dracul doesn't strike me as a bridge sort of guy. More a Rummy player.  
  
I hope they aren't thinking I'll do a purge- with my own 'ardour' powers in full feeding flow, gods knows what I'd do. Still... could be fun.. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Excerpt of Letter- Miss Mary Saunders to her sister, Miss Ellen Saunders  
  
Dear Sister,  
  
You do remember that job opening I mentioned to you in my last letter? Well, Ellie, I decided to apply and am now a maid in that grand old house we always admired during our younger years. You may be thinking, "A maid? How dreadfully dull!" However, my dear Ellie, this job is far from dull. Why, it's like living in some sort of daytime television program, though all the action happens during the night.  
  
This evening during tea, as a matter of fact, the most intriguing thing happened between two of the masters. Everything was quite quiet at the table, as I am told that most of the masters are not "on speaking terms" with one another, though one could hear a slight murmur at one end of the room. I could not quite tell what they, the Marquis de Lioncourt and Monsieur de Pointe du Lac, were saying to one another as they were speaking quite softly and in very rapid French. I did pick up a few words, though they don't make much sense. From what I could hear, it sounded almost like a lover's quarrel. Finally, the Marquis de Lioncourt looked wide-eyed at Monsieur de Pointe du Lac and gasped. He then proceeded to become quite distraught, as he gdfda rapidly fanning himself with his right hand while putting his left hand to his mouth, while making high pitched almost hiccup- like sobbing sounds, while red tears welled up in his purple eyes. He then gasped something along the lines of "You're breaking up with me?" in French, of course, and then continued to sob. Monsieur de Pointe du Lac tried to look away and mumbled something that sounded like "We were never going out." The Marquis then looked across the table at the Countess Karnstein and hiccupped, "You'd rather go with that. . .that. . .whore?" Monsieur responded by turning away from the Marquis, who then looked wide eyed at the rest of the masters at the table, who were now staring at the two, and sobbed, "Please excuse me." He then got up quite hurriedly from the table an quickly left the room, still hiccup-sobbing and fanning himself with his hand. The rest of the table went back to what they were doing, except for Prince Cel Frumos, who quickly got up to follow the Marquis. He was stopped by his brother, Prince Tepes, who grabbed his arm and pulled him back down into his seat, mumbling something in Romanian. I don't speak any Romanian, so I don't know exactly what he said, though I might have to learn if I want to survive in this house.  
  
Well, the Monsieur continued to stare out the window for a few minutes and then quietly excused himself and quickly left through the other door, grabbing a book of matches off the mantle as he left. Reportedly he went outside into the snow, lighting a match and then tossing it over his shoulder, then lighting another and so on, as he walked away from the house.  
  
No sooner had he left when Sir Varney began to whimper. He was quickly hushed by Prince Tepes. He had stopped whimpering, but tears began to spring up in his eyes and soon rabbits began to appear, hopping out of cups, the big clock, from behind mirrors, from out of vases, and one came up out of the Countess Karnestein's dress, knocking over a large goblet of blood, creating quite a large stain on the linen table cloth. She then flushed a very red color and got up to leave, with Lord Ruthven trailing after her. Everyone else at the table, including Mr. Spike and Prince Greenleaf, got up to leave, Prince Tepes leaving orders that any rabbits found in the room were to be put in the hutch out back until further notice.  
  
Monsieur Jean Claude, one of our newest arrivals, took me aside after the scene at the table and inquired as to card playing on Thursdays. I told him that I knew nothing about Thursdays, though last Monday there was quite the Strip Poker rally. He nodded and strode away, muttering to himself about illness.  
  
*********  
  
Entry in a black bound "Diery."  
  
Am plotting to kill Radu. Suddenly can't stand him. Don't know why. Am also terribly dizzy and very tired. I must be getting old. That's it. Old age. Must be it.  
  
Varney came to me today. Said he was feeling ill. He sneezed a couple of times, conjuring sickly greenish rabbits which promptly flopped onto the floor and lay there unmoving. Told him to lie down and take it easy for awhile. Told the maids to bring him some spiced cruor soup when the get the chance.  
  
Ruthven is being plagued by the "owls out his window." Don't wish to get into it, as don't quite understand it myself.  
  
Carmilla is definitely moody recently, and taking it out quite hard on everyone aside from Ruthven. Even Varney is terrified of her, and the two of them get along so well most times.  
  
Lestat has locked himself in his room, refusing to come out, but reportedly sobbing on and off. One maid has seen him while bringing up food and clean towels. Reports that he's a mess, all un-tucked and uncombed. No make up but the remnants of the mascara and eyeliner he was wearing the last night we saw him. Must be v. distraught as I haven't heard his rendition of "All That Jazz" coming from the bathroom early in the evening in quite some time.  
  
Jean Claude has been looking nervous, asking fishy questions about how I run my coven. My coven is perfectly sanitary and healthy, mentally and physically. Don't know what he's yabbling about. Have threatened him numerous times, once with a spoon, but he still persists. He's crazy. I'm sure of it. If anyone is ill, it's him. Come to think of it, ever since HE came, things have gone downhill. Wonder if he has the flu. Better not get near him.  
  
Spike is still talking to his piece of paper. It's very sad. Selene is starting to look paler and more angst-ridden than usual. Could be bad. Armand and Marius are back. Both seem a bit out of it.  
  
Louis? Louis is gone. Don't know where he is. Haven't seen him since his blowout with Lestat. Will watch the news, see what's gone up in flames. As long as it's nothing important.  
  
Am going now to kill Radu.  
  
********  
  
(Note written hastily on a piece of memo paper)  
  
Dracula-  
  
I know what you did last night. Fifty dollars can keep the trap shut, if you catch my drift.  
  
Yours,  
  
Armand  
  
(Reply)  
  
Armand-  
  
It would be wise of you to keep your trap shut anyway. It's not a secret.  
  
Yours,  
  
Dracula  
  
********  
  
(Diary stained in cough syrup)  
  
Woke in great pain today. Felt like heart was pierced. Heart was pierced. Thought pain was after effect of cough syrup, and stake protruding from chest was illusion. Went downstairs to grab a glass before anything else, as had arisen later than usual and felt drained. Stumbled into dining room. Carmilla screamed. Everyone stared at me as though I was unexpected, with mouths open. Was about to pass out from lack of blood. Had circles under eyes that were v. dark. Looked like death reincarnated. Saw reflection in special mirror that hangs above the fireplace. Saw bloody cloak. Looked at table. Passed out.  
  
Came to. Felt very dizzy. Saw brother standing over me. He was saying something, cant remember what. His eyes were tearing up. He was apologizing. Said he was sorry for killing me. Said he'd felt remorse since hitting the hammer, which was why he didn't hit me all the way through. And left my head on. Asked him if he would be kind enough to remove his handiwork. Or if he couldn't, at least find someone who could. Was given some sort of medication by strange man in a lab coat. Tasted better than cough syrup and worked quicker. Passed out.  
  
Came to. Right now am not where I was. Bright lights and white walls. Not in coffin. Needle in arm connected to blood bag. Cold. People rushing back and forth. Want to drink blood. Considering biting blood bag.  
  
Have been given another medication. Was told that it would make me pass out again. It still isn't work----(ink blots)  
  
******** 


	9. Chapter Nine

My dearest sister,  
  
I am delighted to be informed by you that your employment is going well and you are satisfied with your work. I would like, at this time, to draw to your attention to a slight fact that I think it would stand you in good stead in your new home.  
  
What the hell are you on, girl???? We grew up in the Bronx, whattheheck are you mouthing off about???? Maybe all that damn country air is getting to your head. Maybe it's too much damn Jane Austin shit you read. Maybe it's the weird bastards you work for now. I don't care how good looking they are, they are dangerous, and you watch yourself, 'k?  
  
Thanks for the invite to the ball. Valentine's dance, eh? Very cute. I think I'll come and 'steak' my claim on my little sis before she does something embarrassing and/or fatal! 'Special Presentation By Jean-Claude of New Orleans and Kraven of the Eastern Coven'. And you say these two are quite dishy? Ok, maybe it doesn't sound too much like a drag now. Well, see you later, little sis, and don't do anything I wouldn't- hell, juts hang tight and don't go getting all starry-eyed. These cute puppies have razor-sharp teeth under those velvet smiles, y'know.  
  
Take care.  
  
Ellen  
  
XX  
  
**********  
  
(Diary stained in cough syrup)  
  
Don't know what the medication was, or why there appear to be small pink ponies dancing on the ceiling. My chest is a bit sore, but the thick white envelope laid beside me looked promising. Alas, no munchies (am damned hungry…) but an invite- to a *Valentine* Ball? As if I need to go fishing for dates. I am the Coven Beauty- I need no begging! *They* all come begging to *me*! Like the good old days in the Sultan's favour. Well, that was more like the difficult old days. Maybe the bad old days. Perhaps. But I know what I mean. Even if it was cold and dark, and I heard the sounds in the night and the heavy breathing behind me, and knew I was going to feel the pain again. And where was Dracul? He promised he'd protect me, he *promised*. But I didn't cry. I never cried. Not even when they were harsh. I remembered them all. At first I thought I'd die. Then I had an idea. I'd make them into numbers. Numbers and times and then I could write them down and tell them where to go and see who's master then, eh? *I've* got the pen, and *I* decide when you'll be and where, and even if I can be bothered to write you down! But I still remember them all. All of them. I don't want to think of that. I. Don't. Want. To.  
  
God, I need more syrup, I really do.  
  
And I simply must decide what I am going to wear. I love parties. I always look the best. They liked it when I got dressed up. And then dressed down.  
  
Perhaps I'll go ask Carmilla, she has good ideas. And perhaps she'd like the pink ponies as a present?  
  
*********  
  
(Scribbled note on napkin passed at dinner from hand to hand)  
  
J-C: all going well, but sweet Selene beginning to fail. Must push onward!  
  
(Scribbled underneath)  
  
K: Hold on, only one more day- must get as many of the brethren together for this to work.   
  
(Scribbled below)  
  
Jean, Tell me again why we're bothering to do this?  
  
(Tucked into the last remaining space)  
  
If we don't stop this right now it'll spread to the entire vampire population and wipe us out in a fit of insanity.  
  
(On the back, Armand's eyeliner pencil worn to a stub by now)  
  
I thought this lot were here in order to quarantine their already dangerously high levels of instability?  
  
(More still…)  
  
True, but although it's a bit of kill-or-cure slapping this lot together, it's as if their insanity became contagious and leaked out…  
  
(In last remaining area of napkin)  
  
Ok, right, yes, got you. Let's do this.  
  
********  
  
(On thick white vellum hand-delivered by a white owl)  
  
The Night Isle Coven requests the pleasure of your company on the evening of February 14th, 2003  
  
For the purposes of celebration, feasting and dance  
  
To bring in once more the Vampires' New Year  
  
And celebrate the life of the sainted sinner, the first true leader in the darkness, the first to be impaled.  
  
RSVP  
  
Dress: Formal.  
  
Bring Your Own Body  
  
********  
  
(On a sheet of sticky paper, stuck into a journal covered in s'mores and rabbit-prints)  
  
Oooh, I don't feel very well. My rabbits have gone a funny colour, and I'm sure they shouldn't be walking backwards. Or flying. Can rabbits fly?  
  
I went to see Dracula because I felt unwell, but the floor was like- moving. I didn't' know we had moving floors. Then I saw Carmilla, but it might have been Louis, or was it Lestat? I don't know. It was like one person, but three heads, and they were all fighting with each other. I don't like fighting, and I don't like Ruthven making mob noises and chasing me with a burning torch and pitchfork, either.   
  
It's the ball tonight, and they've been ever so busy. That nice new maid said she'd help me with my best suit. I know it's new year, but do we have to do this? Maybe if I curl up really small no one'll see me and I can sleep through it. But I know Ruthven would find me, and I don't like the fire he's got.  
  
I suppose I'd better go and have a bath. I hope my duckie is there. My duckie makes the world alright again.   
  
I need a new hanky. My nose needs wiping and the old one is full.   
  
I really am not very well.  
  
********  
  
(Note on pink myrrh-scented paper)  
  
Ruthven, you are a tease. Of course Louis is out of the picture. But I want to dance with Radu. The poor chick looks so sad today. I don't care what you say; he's the cutest little brother I never had.  
  
********  
  
(Text message from phone of senior maid. Sent to Housekeeper)  
  
Ma-am. Prep'tions going gd. Worr'd @ number of vamps 2nite. Is this wise?  
  
(Text back)  
  
Serious sit. D'nt ask ques's. Do work. And pray.  
  
********  
  
(Part of the guest list drawn up and checked off as guests arrive)  
  
Ms Gabrielle De Lioncourt  
  
Mr Daniel Malloy  
  
My Khayman  
  
Mr David Talbot  
  
Miss Merrick  
  
Mr Vittorio di Raniari.  
  
Mr Blade  
  
Count Dracula (Whedonian)  
  
Count Dracula (Lugosian)  
  
Count Dracula (Dark Prince)  
  
Prince Radu (Dark Prince)  
  
Count Dracula (Leevian)  
  
Count Dracula (Craven)  
  
Count Dracula (Langellian)  
  
Count Orlock  
  
Mr Max Schreck  
  
Miss Lilith Silver  
  
Mr Alucard  
  
Mr Angel  
  
(Remaining list torn off)  
  
********  
  
(Email posted at 2.30 am to Ellen Saunders esaunders@maids2go.net on morning of February 15th)  
  
Great leaping buckets of bunnies, sis! Last night was perhaps the weirdest night of my entire life. It's the biggest suck that you couldn't make it in the end due to the freak accident with the bat and the broken nose and all, but I just *have* to tell you all about it, because the place is still buzzing with it, ad I don't think anyone's going to get any sleep, and I've already been on IM and LJ and just *covered* everyone else with this, but I just have to tell you, too. I know you'll like this one.  
  
The evening started off fairly normal for a vampire ball. You got the invite? You know that it's their new year on the 14th (how ironic is that?), and you would have been my guest. Under hospitality rules, even the servants are allowed guests.  
  
Well, they all arrived in droves- the guests with their partners, guests, and more than a few gullible Anne Rice fans that had been tempted in (the vampire equivalent of finger food). Considering that everyone else was dressed in formal evening wear for their era and taste, the Goths looked rather silly.  
  
Anyway, Dracula welcomed them, but the old boy looked a bit… scatty-eyed. Swayed a bit, too, although the blood-red cloak billowed terrifically. (I *knew* no one'd see the stains on that colour). But he looked- out of it. Even more so that usual. Ranged behind him, the NIC- complete tonight with Armand, Marius and Spike- looked rough. In Varney's case, *really* rough, and more than a bit spaced. More like the-spaceship-has-long-since-left-sort-of-spaced. And in Radu's case, heading towards the other side of the galaxy.  
  
To one side Selene leaned on Kraven and Jean-Claude seemed to be in deep conversation with various vampires as they arrived, especially the contingent of Draculas. Yes, there's more than one. No one's ever worked out which one's the original, but they all manage to get along somehow. I think one lives here, and claims nostalgia for *that* bit of eastern Europe, the other one has a pent-house and claims affected nostalgia for *this* rocky outcrop, still another lives off enormous royalties from a series of films made in the 1950s in England, and looks too dignified to bother with being nostalgic at all… I think they all agree to disagree. It's kinda cute, really. Like a convention of daft old codgers in their dusty evening wear sharing wildly inaccurate and conflicting reminisces over a slightly darker and thicker form of brandy than is normally drunk on such occasions. Anyway, they have 'old blood' written right across them, and form the nucleus of the Higher Vampire Council (HVC) and they all seemed pretty worried about something.   
  
Kraven was looking anxious, gorgeous but anxious, although possibly the presence of two werewolves by the back door as Jean-Claude's backup could be the reason. One I think is dating Selene, but they weren't allowed to come any closer, not being vampires but an entirely other form of immortal. For the same reason, Jack Sparrow and Legolas were also absent, although Sparrow's legacy lived on in the form of a Whedonian-inspired 'spiked' punch. I smelt the rum from across the room. And it's a big room.  
  
The NIC swayed about the room, chatting to guests and meeting all friends. There was a near-riot when the Riceans all gathered in one space. Bad blood, there. And enough angst to keep Louis happy for some time to come. Lestat kept on oscillating between his mother and Louis. Armand was sneaking towards the very old and powerful vampires, and being yanked back by Marius. A vampire called Khayman was having a delightful conversation with a tall, dark stranger until someone pointed out that it was a coat on a peg. He looked faintly upset. Said the other chap was most witty and he'd miss his company…  
  
Varney tried to nosedive into the punch, but Ruthven dragged him back crying out something about beaurocrats. Carmilla gave Varney a white handkerchief to wipe his face with, and Ruthven saw it, yiped pitifully and ran for it. Most odd. Spike and Angel were in deep conference by the buffet, both eyeing up Lilith Silver. Damn, she makes Radu look chaste. Speaking of which, Carmilla was dancing with Radu. Was it just me or was it getting damn hot in there? I mean, they were calling each other 'brother' and 'sister', but if a brother and sister did that sort of dancing with each other in our neighbourhood they'd be impeached for immoral practices. Makes 'Dirty Dancing', Prince, Michael Jackson and that dance in ' Zorro' look like classes for kiddies. Even Dracul looked shocked. Ruthven was seething. Louis looked plain stoned.  
  
There was a lot of wild energy around, too. Rabbits- all colours and shades- kept on popping out of nowhere. Small lightening bolts sizzled about, and every now and then Lestat or Dracula or Radu would levitate a fraction, and then subside. The room seemed to be changing colours, and the guests looked uneasy.  
  
I knew the Coven weren't feeling well, I had no idea it would be this bad.  
  
Then it happened. Just like in the movies- all at once, and even with theme music. The band started up the Sarabande- the NIC's official formal dance, and everyone took places to take part in it, but the guests arranged themselves around the NIC- so each NIC member was holding onto a guest on either side. They had to peel Radu off Carmilla, pull Ruthven down from the chandelier and extract Lestat from his cronies, but once they were all lined up, I realised they were all out of order. The guests had manoeuvred *around* the NIC, cutting them off from each other. And they were all facing a lone figure- Jean Claude was standing at the front. Kraven had Selene by the hand and on the other he was holding onto Ms Silver. Angel had grasped Spike; Gabrielle had Lestat, etc, etc. Anyone who had a connection to any of the NIC was holding on for dear life. Varney whimpered softly, but the music started, and everyone was staring at Jean-Claude. I don't mind staring at him myself, but this was different.   
  
There was a steady gathering of power in the room- a sort of thrumming that you felt through your heart and feet first, then in your jaw, then in your head. Pale at first, but with increasing clarity; I'll never forget what I saw. From each vampire there was being lifted a light- a colour, like a ribbon or a snake that wound upwards from them and snaked towards Jean-Claude, who looked magnificent. He's not at all tall, but his black hair was whipping behind him in a sudden wind that seemed to come from the vampires. His eyes were wide and staring, his lovely face set into the increasing gale. His silken poet shirt- half open to begin with- ripped open and showed his pale skin and the cross-shaped scar livid against his heart. He threw his arms wide, and the colours frothed over the heads of the assembled vampires. They no longer danced, but stop transfixed as if staked through their chests, eyes huge, the colours rising from the NIC were livid, overheated reds and purples. The rest were cooler blues and greens and blacks. It was like drawing poison.  
  
Just then, Lucian, one of the two werewolves grabbed me round the middle and pulled me back, his face pale. I got the point, and he sat sprawled by a table at the edge of the ballroom, watching the show.  
  
It had all been planned all along. Jean-Claude was the conduit, Kraven was the organiser. They planned all this.   
  
By now there was a storm raging in the ballroom. The band had retreated under their podium, wisely considering it to be safer under there. But the screaming wind and the flying detritus was filling in with more than enough noise. A whirlwind had developed around the square of now-stock-still vampire figures, Clothing was whipped about, coming loose in places, and hair flew wildly. Radu's chopsticks had long since gone. Funnelling above the vampires and spiralling towards Jean-Claude was an inverted cone of coloured threads- like a twister of wind, it bet towards the vampire who was directing it all with his very essence. But there seemed to be a problem. Right in the middle of the group, Lestat, the only other vampire who can feed from life power alone, was struggling against Jean-Claude in a battle of wills. Jean-Claude is much older; Lestat is very strong. And Lestat seemed to be taking offence at being forcibly purged of his energies. The storm howled about us. Thunder rumbled, lightening flashed outside, the trees thrown into a wild rattling against the walls, the moon sailing on a tempestuous sea of hurtling cloud. The lights flickered, then flashed, then went out, but the primal forces at work in the centre of the room, the funnel of colours and light pulsing from the vampires to the Master Vampire at their head provided enough light for us to see that the battle was slipping. Lestat was losing! Slowly, piece by piece, Jean-Claude gathered up all of Lestat's will, his energy, his power, and drew it from him like a thorn from the flesh.   
  
Then suddenly it was all in the air above their heads, thrashing, angry- bloated and vile-looking, Jean-Claude opened his mouth and a solid stream of silver light shot from his mouth, eyes, nose and ears, and hit the funnel dead-centre. It exploded with a crash of a thousand, thousand souls crying out in pain, and I saw, just- through the had I held up to my face- that the silver light ignited the healthy, paler coloured streams and sent them throbbing with power straight into the sick ones, and the battle was joined in the very ether of our existence. It felt like I was being pulled apart, and then reconstructed a molecule at a time, and I hadn't even shared my life essence. But the hot, ugly colours were subsiding, glowing paler and stronger and healthier.   
  
Finally, Jean-Claude lowered his arms, and the threads split into many different separate forms and wended their way home, falling back into the mouths of their 'owners'. The skin tones grew healthier in the vampires, and the winds died, the detritus dropped out of its wild flight, and the vampires' bodies dropped to normal standing positions, unsupported suddenly, and most of them staggered and many fell to their knees or simply fainted. The NIC all collapsed. Jean-Claude also fell to his knees.   
  
Slowly the servants crawled out from their shelters. IT seems I was the only one who hadn't known in advance, hence Lucian rescuing me. Where I had been a table had smashed down with enough force to shatter. I thanked him and arose to begin the weary task of clearing up and giving help to those that needed it.  
  
The guests didn't stay long afterwards. They drank some fresh blood and rested awhile, then left. Their purpose had been fulfilled, and vampirehood was safe from the danger of diseased contamination. Jean-Claude was helped back to his room by Kraven, who also tucked in Selene, although her werewolf boyfriend stayed with her. All of the NIC were out for the count (Geddit? For the Count?) They were carried or levitated to their rooms. They looked so peaceful in their enforced slumber, like small children with no cares in the world.  
  
The children of the night, what sweet music they make…  
  
Radu and Louis were the cutest- their arms thrown above their heads, their faces flushed slightly, all the strain of being innocents in a world of decadence erased from their faces. Radu was even smiling, a smile that apparently hasn't been seen on his face for a long time. A *very* long time.  
  
Well if that's New Year, I gotta be here for Christmas, not to mention Easter- Varney's been planning bunny celebrations for months!  
  
All my love, sis, I'm going to go crash now. There's still loads to do, but I'm too damn tired to care.  
  
Take care of that nose,  
  
Mary.   
  
XX  
  
********  
  
(Diary stained in cough syrup)  
  
Oh my god, did anyone get the number of the bus that hit me? And what the hell is all this sticky mess doing on my diary If Varney's been in here, I swear I'll skin those damn rabbits of his. Been re-reading some entries. What was I *on*?? Can only remember vague things. Owing money to elves, getting hooked on something disgusting, fighting, bitching, dirty dancing with- oh, lord, not with Carmilla! How the hell am I going to live this down? Plus been told no blood for a week due to recovering from Vampire Flu. What bollocks. Vampire Flu? *I* don't get things like that. I take precautions.  
  
Cannot think where *I* could get the Flu from. Must have been another vampire around here- loose as a whore's pantaloon string. This lot, after all.  
  
*******  
  
(Written in a once-grand leather-bound tome with the word 'Dierey' imprinted in gold on the front)  
  
Have distinct impression bad things have happened. No, not bad, Embarrassing. Seem to remember staking Radu. He must have been particularly annoying. Will maintain a stiff front, and get some explanation out of that smirking French poof- the scarred one. He seems entirely too pleased with himself today, and that is suspicious.  
  
********  
  
(Part of a prescription)  
  
A mild drink 1 part lamb's blood, 4 parts spring water, 1/12 medicinal beverage to be taken three times a day for a week. Restriction on use of psycho-kinetic powers. No sex or blood-letting at all for a week. And light use of powers and light dining for a month following.  
  
********  
  
(Text from Louis Pont Du Lac to Carmilla)  
  
Dearest. What the heck hap'ned? Lv u.  
  
(Text from Carmilla to Louis Pont Du Lac)  
  
Frankly, I'd rather forget.  
  
********  
  
(Written in official Coven diary and counter-signed by Ruthven, with Radu, Lestat, Louis, Varney, Carmilla, Jean-Claude and Kraven as witnesses.)  
  
The last month never happened. It will never be mentioned. Under pain of excruciating. Here endeth the lesson. 


	10. Chapter Ten

(Pink myrrh scented diary)  
  
Poor Radu! I can only take a few minutes to write before I have to go back and care for him. It was terrible! I've never seen that much smoke before in all my eternal life!  
  
You see, Ruthven apparently learned from reliable sources (hah! Reliable) on the Internet about the wonders of laser eye surgery. Radu, my poor little brother I never had, has terrible eyesight, and can't even start the first line on those eye charts. It has something to do with some incident from his childhood. Something about being left out in the snow by his brothers. Anyway, his sight gets worse with age, and Ruthven decided to use Radu as a guinea pig for his experiments.  
  
We went into the study and Radu lay down on the couch. I held his hand to keep him from being nervous. Ruthven set Varney up on platform above Radu. He had to use a hot glue gun to keep Varney standing in one spot. This did not keep Varney from popping a few rabbits. I had to give him a piece of vampire licorice to keep him quiet and happy while Ruthven figured out exactly how this procedure would go. Finally, we were ready to go. Varney was supposed to use his laser heat eye powers as an eye surgery laser, which he did very well, and perfectly on command. However, after the smoke cleared, Radu was completely blind, not even getting blurs, and he's been that way since the operation several hours ago.  
  
Radu was quite upset at this and threatened to kill Ruthven. He even went so far as to pull that dagger from his boot and throw it at him, pinning Ruthven to the wall by the shoulder, which is quite impressive for a blind vampire. I know Radu is quite gifted in the ways of the sword, as he's taught me many impressive moves, including the Infamous Poke of Doom. I don't know if that one is quite as effective in a duel to the death as some other moves, but it is great for tickling your opponent with. But all that may be lost now as Radu is blind! His vision should restore itself soon to the point that with his glasses he can see. Till then, he needs me. I must bring him his soup and keep him company, like a good more-than sister.  
  
*~*  
  
(Small black book smelling of roses)  
  
Haven't seen Carmilla, the most wonderful woman I have ever known, in quite some time now. I wonder if she still hates me. . .cursed Lestat. One of these days I'll break free from him. . .one of these days. . .though I've been saying that now for over two hundred years. . .I hear Carmilla's dainty step!  
  
(Later)  
  
I cannot believe it! My love has moved away from Ruthven and is now waiting on Radu! I just saw her disappear into his room with a bowl of soup. . .all week they have been together, giggling about something. Having "sword fights." I walked in on one of them the other night, the two of them giggling and rolling about on the floor together. I can't believe that Radu would do that to me, we get along fine. But just the same, one cannot trust anyone these days. Carmilla. . .she's moving around the coven like. . .like. . .Lestat! But no! Not my dear Carmilla, my darling sweet Carmilla. I will go and light a few matches. . .that ought to soothe me. . . 


End file.
